Bloody Flower
by Taketo Yamenushi
Summary: WWIII is now over following the defeat of America. Now everyone is a part of Russia. And everyone is on the brink of war.
1. Chapter 1

The white flag flew sheepishly from the last fortress. The war was over; it was the greatest loss in the history of the world. America, in his bomber jacket, had seen better days when he emerged to admit defeat.

He walked across the bloody battlefield, the blood of his own armies. The enemy army formed a tightly knit circle around him. He slowly raised his hands in surrender, as his enemy emerged from the circle. America wanted to spit on him, the way he wore that smug little grin.

The man stopped a few feet from him, bent down a little and proudly declared to him.

"Velcome America, you are the last to have finally joined us. Velcome to Russia."

We weren't allowed to speak our countries' names anymore. Russia came into my home and made a base in the mid-west, around Kansas, and saying that he wanted to be surrounded by sunflowers, he made me plant them.

My older brother was weak, he didn't help me fight Russia, he just surrendered. But he was right in a way, I was just trying to be a hero again. I had held Russia off for a while but I couldn't forever and he knew that.

All of the countries in the world fell one by one when Russia started attacking, starting with Chi—I mean _Wong Yao_ and last me. This surprised me a little, I would have thought that Russia would claim Toris (Liet) first.

I'm trying to avoid Arthur for now, avoiding eye contact if I do see him or have to talk to him. He understands that I feel that he betrayed me.

"ALVRED!" I heard my name shouted by my new "leader". "Yes Mr. Braginsky?" I replied, sliding into the room that contained the source of the shout.

Ivan treats us like a mix between servants and almost equals. Kiku and I have been talking about our… situation for quite some time now. We have been enemies before but right now he is the only one I can have intelligent conversation with.

When we are all in our rooms, some of the ruffians among us talk of revolution. I agree, we need to rebel, but it is impossible right now. Haven't these idiots thought of the consequences?

This whole situation has given me much stress. I hate this, this feeling of something being wrong and there is no way for me to correct it. I have felt this before, most so when little Alfred told me… that he no longer needed me, that he could be… free.

Who knew that getting everyone to become one with me could be so hard? But I succeeded in the end so it all worked out well!

I made a grab for the neck of the nearest vodka bottle to where I was laying on the plush sofa, which Belarus had brought into my room the day before.

I succeeded in the task of getting some vodka in my system and drifted off into a drunken sleep. Not a good idea. I woke up a few hours later in a cold sweat, having to reassure myself that it was just an alcohol-induced nightmare.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hi this is my second fanfic, and I might actually continue this one! Anyways I really want some constructive criticism about my writing. So anyway this is about WWIII, if Russia went through with his "we will all become one with Russia" dream. So the first section is in third person and the others are first person of America, UK, and Russia in that order. It is now really REALLY late so I'm gonna go to bed, bye!!


	2. Chapter 2

Ivan POV:

God I've got to learn never to drink myself to sleep. That… that dream… was so real, so vivid. I- I dreamed of my death. Someone… put a shotgun to my head, and pulled the trigger. No, no, NO! That's not possible… I'm- I'm invincible! Nothing can hurt me, NOTHING! No… I'm Russia, I don't lose, I never lose!

Always…

Should I get a summer house in Florida?

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Alfred POV:

By the time I got to "masters" room he had drunk himself to sleep. God, I wanted to smash that bottle over his head. But then, he started to thrash about and scream. I finished picking up the empty vodka bottles and got out of there quick.

Me and a couple other guys are planning a revolution. Arthur kept pestering us, saying that we weren't prepared and it was too soon. So we finally gave in, and let him in.

He keeps saying to me, "Alfred, you don't always have to be the hero, remember that." Well guess what? I AM A HERO. AND THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT THAT.

I found my jacket today (Russia took it from me). He was using it as a coaster for one of his vodka bottles! Now there's this big circle on it where it was. I wonder if I can get that out somehow.

I miss Mickey D's…. I want a big mac sooo badly. And a whopper, I miss the king…. And a- -

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Arthur POV:

Bloody hell! Why does Alfred have to be so rebellious? God, I had to join them so they don't do something stupid and get us all killed with a firing squad at dawn!

What is wrong with that boy? I asked Kiku while we were having tea today and he said that it was because he was young, he would calm down eventually. Or get us all KILLED!

I'm so sick of sunflowers. We have them planted in a 360 around us and we eat the seeds with almost every meal.

Francis snuck some liquor into our rooms last night… I woke up um… in my birthday suit in a broom closet. No one will tell me what I did but next time I'm not going to partake, that's for sure.


	3. Chapter 3

A.N.: This chapter will all be Ivan's pov. Hope you guys like it and hopefully it won't take as long for me to add another chapter! Sorry about how short it is….. Im trying to finish the story quicker then I planned to so I can work on a new one.

I can no longer trust anyone. I have overheard my… fellowmen speaking of a mutiny! Even those who have always been my allies, or others like that, I have heard scheming. I cannot even be sure Belarus is loyal!

I haven't eaten, haven't slept. I keep everything I have in my sight. I feel like I am Nicholas II the second when his and his family had their death sentence read to them. A feeling of dread, fear, confusion, and disbelief.

This is slowly driving me deeper into madness. I feel like I am crawling deeper and deeper into the bottom of my bottle. But wait… hasn't it always been like this? Me, alone, not being to trust my own people and driving myself insane. My tsars had always been weak, greedy, or tyrannical; am I turning into one of them?

I ask myself these questions and search myself for the answers, but never find them. But now what to do about the rebellious ones. I could have them killed, to set an example, but that would not be the wisest choice. I could have them punished, but that will only make them angrier.

There is a knock at my bedroom door. I ignore it, but it grows louder. I think that someone is trying to break the door down. I reach for my pipe, wrapping my hand against the end as the door gives way.


	4. Chapter 4

Alfred:

The door finally gave way, splintering into large pieces of wood. We had put way too much pressure on it I guess. The slime ball was there, half-drunk, and gripping his trademark length of pipe. I thumbed the trigger of the pistol in my hand, the one I had worked so hard to smuggle in. I had everyone behind me, but they had put me in charge of doing what they didn't want to do.

Suddenly, a lone figure burst from the group. They ran to Russia, turned to show their face. It was Natasha, her nerves snapped, wailing not to hurt Russia. It was unlike her, she was pointing the weapon we had given her at us.

A loud thwack rang through the air as Russia hit the side of her head with the pipe, she collapsed to the floor, and he stepped over her like she was a piece of trash.

"So… You all vant to fight me? Vell zen lets go."

A voice in the back of the group yelled, "AWESOME! LET'S GET HIM!" We can only guess it was Gilbert. As I stepped forward, Russia's fist collided into my glasses, sending them flying, shattering as they hit the wall.

My reflexes kicked in and I grabbed the pipe before it followed suit and tried to become a permanent fixture to my head. I was able to wrestle it out of his hands in time to see his foot collide with my stomach and knock me into the wall.

Arthur:

I ran forward after Alfred fell and hit Ivan over the head with a piece of the door. He stumbled, dazed. He fell into a plush sofa, hand embroidered with small sunflowers. I grabbed Alfred's gun and walked towards the unconscious Russia. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Natasha stir, but ignored it. I raised the gun, pressed it against Ivan's head.

And then he was dead, his blood dying the sunflowers a deep blood red.

A kitchen knife protruded from his chest, a fully loaded gun was in my right hand. Natasha cradled his head, and nurturingly chanted, " Брат, старший брат. Be still, they cannot hurt you. You are loved, Брат, You are safe." We left in victory, I had to carry Alfred, but I stole a last look at Natasha and couldn't decide if she was crazy or the sanest person of us all.


End file.
